Jupiter
by Phoenix Sparrow
Summary: John is having trouble focusing and Virgil knows just what he needs


John sat in his room, looking at the work in front of him. He'd been home for a few days now, which in itself was an achievement, but he still didn't feel fully acclimatised.

Reaching up, he rubbed his eyes and looked back down at the computer. The words were swimming in his vision and he couldn't focus. With a frustrated shove, he stood up from his chair, pushing it back. The report was going to have to wait.

He looked round and realised he'd pushed the chair over, so stooped to pick it up, righting it and replacing it at his desk.

A glance at his clock informed him he'd been attempting to work on the report for a few hours, time which he hadn't realised had passed so swiftly. With a sigh, he raised his arms, linking them above him and stretching his limbs. He felt his joints popping as he pulled before he lowered his arms again.

He went over to his bed, dropping onto it and lying down. Despite the fact he'd been working for so long, it still wasn't dark outside so he couldn't even find solace in his beloved stars.

He released another deep sigh before rolling onto his side. In one quick motion, he'd lowered his legs to the floor and sat up, deciding he probably needed to go and get himself a drink.

* * *

Virgil was sat in the living room at his piano. He wasn't really playing anything in particular as he was alone.

Scott was off island on a mission. John was writing up the report from their last mission. Gordon and Alan were down in the hangars with Brains performing some maintenance. Kayo was on a perimeter run and their grandmother was sorting out some laundry.

So to occupy himself, Virgil sat at the piano, playing random notes to see what sort of a melody he could produce, while still being on hand should Eos transfer a distress call to them.

The sound of footsteps approaching caused him to halt his playing and look up. John was heading down the stairs and from the way he was holding himself, he wasn't in a good mood. His shoulders were hunched up tight and his head was slightly lowered, while his hands were almost in fists at his sides. Yes, John was definitely tense.

He watched him go down the stairs to the kitchen, the older man seemingly oblivious to his younger sibling. Virgil stood and went over, standing at the top of the stairs and watching him go to the fridge.

John poured himself a glass of orange juice which he downed quickly before pouring another.

Virgil pursed his lips as he turned away from the stairs. He knew what John needed. Something that had always helped to calm him, right back to when they were all really young. Something their mother had taught him.

Lucille Tracy was the reason Virgil played the piano. Almost from day one Virgil was the one who had been soothed and even showed enjoyment when she played and so often sat him on her lap while at the instrument. As soon as he'd been old enough to understand and learn, she'd started to teach him how to play. But there was one particular piece that would bring John out of his room to listen to as well. A piece that would soothe him and ease any dark mood. One that as soon as Virgil mastered it, he'd use on the days when John would return from school fed up.

Virgil returned to the piano and sat back down. He didn't really even need the sheets for this one anymore, it was one that came naturally to him and so he started to play. Slower and softer than usual, recognising that John was tense and needed to calm.

It wasn't long before John reappeared at the top of the stairs, looking over at Virgil. "How did you know?" he asked.

"I saw you cross the room," Virgil replied, still playing. He shifted over on the bench a little, nodding his head to the space he'd created.

John took the hint and walked over, lowering himself onto the seat beside him.

Virgil didn't miss a beat, but smiled up at his immediately older brother. "You're trying to do too much work before you've got your landlegs back."

John sighed. "Probably, but the report needed completing."

"John, there were two of us involved in that mission, I'd have written it if you needed me to."

"I know, but it's part of my routine. You guys come home, we debrief and I write it up. I have the better memory."

"Hey!" Virgil said, his tone teasing rather than accusatory. "I'm not Mr Forgetful, you know."

"I know," John conceded. "Sorry. Perhaps I might take you up on that offer then. I can't focus on it."

Virgil nodded. "I figured." He continued to play for a moment before looking back up at him. "If you want I could find my album of this and take it to the entertainment suite. It sounds a lot better with a full orchestra in surround sound."

"Virgil, your rendition of Holst's Jupiter is just what I needed," John said, smiling at him. The slow gentle playing was already having the effect Virgil had hoped it would on his brother. He could see his shoulders relaxing, the tension in his posture leaving him. "Thank you."

Virgil smiled. "You're welcome."

They sat together, the elder man listening and relaxing as the younger man continued to play.


End file.
